


Somebody Has A Secret (will you tell?)

by Alexthefangirl77



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Death, I hope this gets kudos, I really tried, I will post the third one later........ Its not written yet, Im so sorry about the suspense, Its a 3 chapter story chill guys, Maybe actually four of them nevermind, Murder Mystery, Oopsie I killed off one of them, gory-ish, have fun reading this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:16:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexthefangirl77/pseuds/Alexthefangirl77
Summary: Felicia Ressen is a perfect student. She always gets straight A's and aces her quizzes. Except in chemistry. So when a mysterious guy named Emerson shows up at her school and people start getting killed, she has to follow the cryptic Periodic-Table-themed trail left behind by the murderer and find them before it’s too late.





	1. Enigm4

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first murder mystery. At the end of the story, I will explain why the titles contain numbers-that is, if you didn't figure it out already.

Beep!Beep!Beep!  
My alarm wakes me up. I lazily slap the clock until it falls off the table, and thuds on the floor, it’s loud shrills abruptly ending. I drag myself reluctantly out of bed. I get ready for my morning ritual, brush teeth, put my auburn hair up in my signature chignon, pad downstairs, and eat my toast. My mom, rushed as usual, brushes by me and adjusts my sweater. “Don’t get into trouble!”she calls out before shutting the door, bringing me back to my consciousness. “Ugh. Monday.” I sigh, pulling myself off my chair and getting my schoolbag ready.   
“Miss Ressen?” “Here.” “Tanner?” “Yup.” “And our new arrival, Miss Sunn?” “Mmhm.” I didn’t even notice her walk in. A dark-haired girl next to me slouches in her chair and doodles on her hand. Class passes slowly. I sort of tune out after the theory of “dead or alive” where apparently, some guy put his cat in a room with toxins or something. I play with my zipper on my packed binder. My teacher, after the period, comes up to me and hands me my physics test. “A’s, as always Miss Ressen. I beam at the big fat A in the corner of the page. As I start to leave class, he nods at my uncompleted assignment that was due for chem today. “I trust you’ll get your grades up, Felicia?” I just look back, and slink out to my locker, where Landon is waiting for me. “Hey Lee. “ he acknowledges me. I walk to the cafeteria with him, as he groans about the amount of restless bodies waiting in the lunch line. Whispers are heard all around, as if someone had something to hide, yet shares it with everyone through silent communication. I raise my eyebrow at the mention of Jessa, one of my algebra tutorees. “What’s the hush about?” I inquire. “You didn’t hear?” one of the cheerleaders squeal. Sometimes their excitedness is over exaggerated, but you learn to live with it. I silently roll my eyes. “Hear what?” I ask again, impatient to see what the fuss is about. “Jessa’s dead.” I widen my eyes and gape at her. “Are you serious?” I exclaim. The line moves forward. I am nudged to the side where Amanda, the cheerleader is. “Yeah! Apparently, they found a number carved in her arm. 26, I think. Gross, right?” “Yeah. gross.” I mumble. What could the number 26 possibly have to do with Jessa? I ask myself. It’s stupid, really. All this conundrum about something that might not have happened. You know, She probably just moved out of town and some gossipy popular person started a rumour about her. 

A couple days later, the urgent whispers disappear, and everyone seems to forget, or at least ignore Jessa’s said “murder.” I walk down the hall just as the shrill bell for last period rings. “Shute!” I cry, and sprint to my locker, fiddling with the lock twice before succeeding to open it. A slip of yellowed paper falls out. I stuff it hurriedly into my bag, grab my books, and dash to class. 

“And that wraps up today’s lesson. Remember, I have all the notes on the school website under your course.” I quietly unfold the paper and smooth it out on my palm as the others sit and do various homeworks for the last five minutes of class. 

_Up, up and away. Don’t forget your helmet._

The paper is outlined in some kind of red substance, similar to blood. I make a disgusted face and toss it in the trash on my way out. Some stupid freshman trying to scare me. Nice try, but it won’t work. I’ve seen my fair share of horror movies. 

The next day, I trek into class as the roll call is ending. Good thing my name is at the end of the list. I sit down just as my name is called. “Here.” I call out. Again, The Girl is sitting next to me, texting. I sigh. “What? “ she demands, catching my eye. “I look down on my worksheet, embarrassed. “Nothing…” I mutter. When I get home from a very long day of work, work, and more work, I flop onto the couch and check my email. Nothing, nothing, nothing… Who am I kidding? No one wants a friend like me. I switch on the TV and absentmindedly stare, as if I’m glaring right through it. A lavender sweater catches my eye. I turn the volume up. Wait, isn’t that Maĩa?  
I see a body, on TV, and watch horrified as they announce it. “Maĩa Lemurs, age 16, was discovered today at the National Space and Astrology centre, strangled with a plastic bag and a shoelace, with the number 3 gruesomely carved into her forearm, police say. She was found dead, and witness says she had seen a suspicious man hurrying out of the auditorium, ten minutes after the presentation. Anyone who has seen or witnessed, or even possibly knew about the murder, is pleaded to come forward. Police is investigating on the matter as we speak.”. I peer in awe at the TV, expecting it to say this is all a joke. 

But they don’t. They continue to investigate the incident. Up up and away… Don’t forget your helmet. I recall the note that was left in my locker this morning. Wait, wasn’t she at the space station? I ponder on that thought. Oh my god. The note was a warning. I hurry over to the police station and tell him what had occurred. ”Miss, Resser, was it?” “Ressen.” I correct. “Right, Miss. Are you sure of this incident? We have no proof on your say of the matter.” “Yes, I am completely sure.” I confirm unhesitantly. He whisks me out of the office saying he’ll “call me if anything changes”. Meanwhile, as I walk by his office, I discern a mention of my name. “We want… All the time, to watch… And report…” I hear snippets of the conversation, straining to hear more. I hear the name “Emerson”, before hurrying down the hall and into the frigid November air. 

That night, I toss and turn. I can’t think of anything else. What is it with murderers and their damn cryptic clues? I get up, slowly drink a glass of water while leaning on the cool marble counter. Hmmph. 26, 3. What in the world?... 

The days stagger by,and like before, the regular routinely glances towards each other occur, as if all were trying to catch a glimpse of guilt in our souls. We all attend the memorial services for Maĩa, and I assume the police are still on the chase. That week, I noticed a particular person, sort of, I don’t know, following me, or at least attempting to. Wow. They’re so cliché. I walk over to the boy hiding behind a bush. “You know I can see you, right?” the boy timidly walks out from behind his cover and advances towards me. “Who even are you anyways?” I implore, a little bit too harshly. Oops. “Me?” he looks around him and points to himself. “Yeah, you. What’s your name?” “Oh. Yeah. Um... Emerson. Jacksons. Well, Emerson Jacksons, no period, but...:” he stammers nervously. Emerson… Emerson? Where have I heard that before? Oh yeah! The police station! So he wants info about me huh? “Stay away from me or I’ll call the cops and get a restraining order on you.” I snap. Ha. As if they would turn their secret ops into punks with criminal records. I laugh inwardly. I walk away, contempt to not let them get any information whatsoever. 

I’m scanning the contents of my locker, mentally debating on whether I should, or should not empty it and organize it properly. When did a navy sweater even get here? Oh wait. It was when Jessa forgot it. Oh wait, Jessa’s dead. I sigh and attempt to sort of put it into place without moving the layers and layers of unidentified papers at the bottom of my locker. And they say I’m a good student? Ha. Wait till you see this. I glance over another bit of paper with the same red markings on it as the last note I had received. I wonder what the joke is this time?

_The secret is out. Theatre will never rise._

What the heck? You know what, I’m gonna go and tell the police. Wait. Wait! The play. The play is on tonight! No, it can’t be. I’m sure of it. They wouldn't murder someone in plain sight, would they? I seriously doubt it. And even if I wanted to go check it out, I have tutoring at 4:30 till 6. And the auditorium closes at 5 anyways. No point in “confirming” my suspicions. 

“Yeah, thanks Lee!” “Okay. Next Thursday at the same time.” I start to trudge out of the library, and suddenly, a shrill scream is heard from the auditorium. No. NO! Please just be someone with an embarrassing stain on their shirt. I dart into the backstage area -thankfully unlocked- to find a bloodied hem of a dress limply fallen at my feet. Alessa. Wait, is that a… a 6? Why? I stamp my foot in frustration. Someone is leaving me messages, and I don’t know why! Amanda is kneeling at her feet, checking her pulse. A pool of crimson blood flows from the wound in her neck. Her skin is ice. An urgent tug leads me blindly into the hallway, me still dazed with confusion. I blink the shock out of my vision to find Emerson peering at me. “We have to go. Now.” he coaxes, and I follow reluctantly. “Why?” No answer. “Why?” I implore again, sounding like a child. I don’t care. I continue untill he instructs me to put on a helmet end get on his motorbike. I hesitantly peer at the automobile, half expecting it to leap at me. “NOW!” he reprimands, and I listen. We tear down the streets, making it to a small plain expanse of dried grass and wildflowers. He told me to stay until it’s clear. 

I still don’t understand why the police kept glaring at me with suspicion. Emerson told me they thought I was the main suspect, but I was “tutoring,” so I was in the clear. Apparently, me knowing about the second incident was a bit of a notion towards my well, everything. I try to ignore it now. It’s been two weeks, and no one has really mentioned it, but I did find Alessa’s boyfriend crying in the music room once. Well, ex-boyfriend now. I open my locker, expecting another note. I am alleviated to the fact that there is, in fact, no note, and a nice clean, organized locker to look at(for a little while). 

Home. Finally. My mother’s car is parked in the driveway. Hmm. I wonder why. I peek into the open curtains on the front porch. I open the door, and check the mail on the bench. “Honey?” “Yeah mom?” “There’s a letter for you in the mail pile. I can’t really read the return address, so I don’t know who it’s from.” “‘Kay. Thanks.” “Oh and sweetie? I’m going out tonight. Don’t stay up too late.” That’s why she’s home so early. My mom promptly hustles out the door, pecking me on the cheek as she goes. The door slams behind me, a cool blast of wind hitting my back. I open the envelope eagerly. One of the warning notes dwindle to the floor, landing like a feather on the mosaic tile. Uh oh. 

_Down the path, twisting and turning, firewood burning._

I spend the next ten minutes feverishly trying to decode the scribbles on that ugly paper. Hmmm. So enigmatic. Clever, you repugnant, satiating murderer. The gears turn. Slowly, but they do. Creak, creak,creak, creaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak… DINGDINGDING! Okay, so maybe I‘m smart, but I’m not super cunning like this stupid criminal on the loose. But I got my ways. QUICK! To the winter festival. When I get there, I go asking around about where to find fire. I must look super ludicrous, considering the amount of bonfires I afterwards observe around the park. Wait. Twisting and turning… I remember that one long path I used to walk along with my dad before he left. Okay, Lee, not the time for family history. I tear down the path, and look around. I see a hand behind the water station. Surely a wasted guy passed out on the ground. I near the body. It’s a guy, but he’s not wasted. He’s… Yup he’s dead. My head twirls. What kind of a sick, homicidal, terrible, deficient person would do this TO A TEN YEAR-OLD? The bluish-pale white face I recognise is definitely Damian, Jason’s adopted brother. Nausea rises up my throat. I distance myself from the gore. Another number. 53. I’m about ready to go over the edge. So many emotions churn inside my stomach. Anger, resentment. Than sadness, and the guilt of not being able to help. And then fear. Fear of who will be the next one to be killed, because I clearly can’t help it. All is a foggy mess now. My eyes are tearing up, I can’t see. Hatred boils inside me. I just want to scream. I drop to my knees and cry silently. Hands grab me from behind, but I’m too dazed to care. I start to hyperventilate, then my muscles go slack and all fades out of view. All to darkness.

I wake up in a strange room, my mind wreathed with abashment. A face peers at me solicitously. Emerson? Why would I be here? And wait… where is “here”? While I’m still under the spell of muddledness, and I watch his lips move, but can't seem to distinguish any intonation, or slightest whisper. I blink a couple times as my head adjusts to the confusion, and realize that he’s saying something. “Lee? Hey, you with me?” “Ungggggg…” I groan, opening my eyes again, then suddenly preferring the soothing lull of obscurity. “Where?” I start to mutter, then realize he left. I start to recall him telling me he had to go cover my trail, or something like that. I get up dimly, and peer at my surroundings. I start to navigate the piles of paper and wadded clothes strewn across the room. I notice a small taupe corner of something, and go check it out. I discern the features of a file, and contemplate the prosaic scrawl on the cover. Emerson’s writing, I think to myself. I gaze away, but my eyes are pulled back to the file. I open it, and innumerable sheets of scribbled paper plunge to the untidy floor. I quickly scoop them up and scrutinize the writing. My name appears several times, as well as the places I’ve been, at the specific date, hour, and minute I was there. I find black and white pictures of me, in the halls at school, by the stream, my favorite place to finish assignments, basically everywhere. Amidst the jumble of paraphernalia, I spy a periodic table. What would that have to do with me? I’m terrible at chemistry! I look at the post-it on it. 26. And the symbol for iron, Fe. Then 3. And for Lithium, Li. 6, carbon. C. 53, Iodine. I. I put this all together. FeLiCI. That’s…., that’s part of my name… Wait, is Emerson trying to frame me?

I stride up to the school, and head over to my first class. No Emerson. No Eclipse…? I sit down and a note is taped to my binder. Okay, weird. I never noticed that before. How would someone even get into my locker? The only person who knows is me, and… Landon, who’s not here. I wonder why. I open it underneath my desk, eyeing Mr. Stanley. 

_Where there once stood royalty, now lie the dead._

I sigh, irked at this stupid complex clue. Royalty, then dead. What does that even have to do with…? The cemetery. It used to be a palace. That’s where it’s happening. “Mr. Stanley?” “Yes Miss Ressen.” he epostulates. “Can I go to the bathr-” “No Miss Ressen, you are to sit down and do your assignment, that is due at the end of this class. I would hurry to it.” he booms, and I timidly return to my seat. I grudgingly start scratching the paper with my 2b pencil.

I hurry over to the cemetary at my lunch break. Nothing, nothing, nothing! I wait there for two and a half hours, consequently late for my next class. Oh wait, it’s over. I sit through my last period and slouch in my chair. 

It’s been what, six days of school that this, “Eclipse” has been absent. Everyone is saying that she was caught by the “murderer”. No matter how much I try to ignore it, I can’t stop thinking of Damian. Jason left for three days, because of someone’s rash, homicidal decision. Everyone’s abuzz about it, still. After a week. I just try to block out the thought of his cold, blood-drained, bluefaced body out of my mind. It hurts to think of it. I walk over to the cemetary, this time, to talk to my dad. I sit down by his gravestone, words and stories spilling out of me. I can’t keep it a secret anymore. Everything just absorbs into the ground as if it’s drinking my words. I feel shaken, and relieved when I’m done. I remember the time where my dad took me out on a dirt road, and I sat in the trunk of the truck. Wind blowing in my hair, the sound of the purring motor safely whirring beneath me… It almost seemed too real. As if I was actually there again. Then I realized, there was a vehicle behind me. I feel a sharp pain on my head, and all goes dark. 

Dad? No, not… But… My eyes are blurry, and something warm trickles down my face. I wipe at it, sitting up. Blood. I gasp at the sight of a lifeless body sprawled at my feet. A cool object is placed against my temple. I don’t move. Someone kicks the body closer to me, and I withdraw slightly. At first, I see a bleary head shaped thing, then red, and more red. My eyes adjust to the inky region around me, and I see a barely recognizable face, bludgeoned to a pulp. I scrutinize the body, a big A cut into it’s chest. I nearly hurl at that sight. The last piece of the puzzle. I peer up, and see a familiar face. Landon? He smiles. Shute.


	2. R1ddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Felicia knows whodunnit, she just needs to find out why. But will she live to tell the tale?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, this is the second installment of my story. Again, last chapter, end notes, I'll explain the weird number titles.

Pain. That was all I felt. The smell of rusted metal invades my nostrils. The taste of blood in my mouth. The blinding lights dispersing ahead of me. The sound of wailing sirens in the daze of it all. I wake from my glazed slumber, trying to pull myself up from the ground which seems to fluctuate from underneath me. It’s all in your head, Lee. Calm yourself. Maybe I’ll wake up from this horrendous hallucination, and be back to the day me and Landon first started hanging out. The day we went out for ice cream, and he pretended it was the biggest decision in his life. The day we went tubing, and he flew about seven feet in the air. He laughed the whole time. Landon. Wait. What happened? I hear the grumble an engine behind me. I try to call out, but I can’t utter a sound, my throat feels like it’s stuffed with cotton. I vaguely see a police officer jogging towards me in his blue standard uniform. He leans over me and starts speaking. I can’t exactly hear what he’s saying until he leans down over and waves a hand in my face.  
“Miss? Miss, can you hear me? We’re going to get you some help. An ambulance is on the way.” I get to my feet, my head woozy, and stumble into him. I must’ve looked really bad, because he flinched, and his face contorted with worry. “You have to stay calm, miss.” As soon as I get back my balance, the ambulance bursts in, lights flashing, and trucks me away.

“Alright, miss Ressen, is that all? I’ll call your parents-” “Parent. My dad died when I was five.” “Which is what you were doing at the cemetary, correct? “I already told you that, didn’t I? “Just protocol to confirm your story, miss Resser.” “Ressen.” “Alright. I will get Mrs Stanley, our secretary, to call your legal guardian to take you home. Investigations will be made, so expect a few of our officers to show up at your door, okay?” “Yeah, okay. Thanks.” I trudge out into the waiting room away from mr A-list A-hole over there, and sit on one of the molded plastic chairs, running a scene through my mind. 

_“Lannnnnndon. LAAAAANDON where are you?” I said as I walked into his spacious living room. “Lee, will you get out? I told you I’d be there in a second!” he yelled from the kitchen. “But I’m thirsty! Hurry up!” He stalked into where I was standing, holding a tray full of crackers and chips, handing me a glass of juice. “Wow Landy. Who are you trying to impress?” “You.” he said jokingly, twirling around me clumsily like a drunk waitress. “Yeah?” I challenge, “Better try harder next time, I prefer dill.” I said, plucking a chip from the platter and skipping outside. “Salt and vinegar? Really?” I yelled from the porch. “It was all we had!” “Suuure.”_

Why do my memories always seem so much more joyful than real life? I ponder as I freeze to death outside the interrogation room. I hear the front door slam, then my mother’s worried face charging at me as her slim arms pull me into a hug. “Enough mom, I’m fine.” I grumble when she cups my face in her hands and peers at me with wide eyes. “Are you sure, honey? You’ve been out all night! Where have you been, and why are you at the police station?” “Didn’t the lady tell you?” “No, sweetie, I hung up a's soon as I found out where you were. Then I came here.” “Oh. Well,” I gesture to myself vaguely with my freezing hands,”I’m in one piece. Can we go home?” “Of course.”  
The whole drive home was awkward and silent, and my mother would often pipe up with questions about where I was, that I’d turn down with a grunt or two. We inched up the driveway, and my mom shifted the gear into park. “What’s going on, Felicia? You’ve been getting no sleep, you disappear after school, hell, all of the students you tutor have been filling our answering machine with messages asking when you’ll be back! Are you doing something I should know about?” “No, mom, I am NOT doing drugs. Please please please don’t start that again.” “Alright, but tomorrow, I want every detail. I am your mother, Lee. I deserve to know why I should be worrying, okay?” “Yeah, okay.” I give her awkward hug over the shift stick and trudge up to my room, already thinking of a lie that could cover up tonight’s events.

I wake up to a soft knock on my door. I almost jump out of my skin when I hear the first taptaptap. I guess I’m just paranoid now that, you know, four people I know have been killed by presumably who used to be my best, and only friend, since I was a kid. Jessa, Maia, Alessa, Damian, and if the police hadn’t of shown up, I’d be dead too. So, as far as the story goes, Emerson may or may not be working with Landon to frame me. Ugh. My mom calls me from outside the door. “Sweetie, it’s eight o'clock- are you well enough to go to school?” “Yeah, mom. I’ll be down in a sec.” I reply loudly, hoping she’ll get the hint and leave already. “I’m off work at four, honey, I’ll pick you up, okay?” “Yeah, yeah, mom, go. You’ll be late.” I pull my cushy duvet up over my face and sigh. My mom’s a nurse at the elderly wellness center, so usually she has to get there early to give her patients their morning pills. 

Trudging up to the flat brown building that is my prison; school, I realize I forgot my math binder. “Shute!” I cry, stamping my foot on the ground angrily. Math is first period, so I don’t have time to go back home and get it, but we’re correcting a homework we’ve already done, which eliminates borrowing a sheet from somebody else. “Ah crap, Felicia!” I scold myself, reluctantly dragging my feet to homeroom. The class was abuzz about something. As soon as I walk in, everyone begins to avert their eyes, except for the few brave enough to peer at me. “I hear she murdered someone.” a small voice calls from the back. “What?” I cry. This is stupid. Just stupid. How could they possibly think that I kille- “You were at the police station, my dad saw you.” “Yeah I was, I was kidnapped!” “So was Eclipse. Did you see her?” Suddenly, like wildfire spreading, scattered voices began to demand answers. “No, I did not. I don’t remember-” Landon walks in, a smile on his face, and sits next to me. “What’s up Lee?” he galivants playfully. He slides a note across my desk.   
_Say a word, and the girl dies too._  
-Landon  
Right, right, because of course you’d have kidnapped Eclipse as well. Just my luck. Now I’m dealing with a freaking hostage case, and I can’t say anything or we’ll both die. So, I guess I’ll just let him murder the whole school. Shit, Felicia, what are you gonna do now? So, time passes, I watch Landon for any signs of change, but five minutes into the homework assignment, he catches my eye and slides a finger onto his lips and mouths; Shhhhhh… Creepy much? My heart is pounding throughout the entire day, and I use the halls on the other end of the school to avoid him. There they are, thinking I am a vicious killer, and there is Landon, chatting with the rest of my class as if nothing has changed. At the end of the day, I’m walking towards the back woods that leads to my house, but a rough hand grabs my waist from behind and pulls me into a deadly hug. A knife catches the glint of the sun a's it’s placed at my neck. “Let’s go.” Landon growls. He pushes me into his car, tying my arms behind me before sitting me up in the front seat as if I was there voluntarily. “Not a word or I’ll put this in your side.” he gestures to the weapon. Tears gather in my eyes and Landon starts driving away. We pass my mom, who notices me and scrutinizes through the window in surprise. I sob silently, hating myself for not knowing sooner. Every girl Landon had killed was one of his exes. Damian was the bastard child of his mother and some random guy she had hooked up with before leaving him. Why didn’t I see this coming? We pull into an abandoned strip mall. I snort, momentarily distracted from my grieving period. “Wow, so freaking cliché. Someone got creative, now didn’t we?” I scoff. I’m led into said mall, and my eyes struggle to adjust to the dark lighting. I see a figure, sprawled into one corner, hair falling limp over her pale face. “Eclipse?” I murmur, noticing the maroon shirt she had worn on the last day she had been at school. Her leg twisted in the most agonizingly uncomfortable way it could bend. I hear muffled signs of acknowledgement. “What the hell Landon!” I cry, my eyes welling up again. “What is wrong with you?!?” I scream. He waltzes up the Eclipse, visibly amused, and holds up her drained face. “What has she ever done to you?” I ask pleadingly. A knife if brought to her throat as the smile is chased from his expression. His eyes are somber as he presses the blade farther, drawing crimson beads of blood in one ghastly perfect row. “Well, nothing, really. I just needed to give you incentive. I needed to discourage you. That way, it’d be easier to get rid of you, too.” “Why? Why the hell are you doing this? What kind of SICK VENDETTA DO YOU HAVE AGAINST THESE PEOPLE, LANDON?” I scream in anger. “Oh, these ones, you mean?” He drops Eclipse, and she lands with a thud on the marble flooring. I flinch, and he walks over to a board and showmaningly flips it over, revealing a sort of crime board with all the victim’s faces plastered grimly upon its white surface. “These here, my dear Felicia, are all the people who have let me down, over the years. All of the people I resent, all of the people who NEVER SEEMED TO CARE FOR ME!” he raises his voice, then goes silent, and smiles. “You, Felicia, are connected to each and every one of these people. You see, you tutored Jessa in biology. You used to do debate club with Maia. You are Alessa’s- sorry, were- Alessa’s neighbor. And Damian, you babysat him in eighth grade.” “So you’re framing me?” “Precisely.” “Don’t you think someone will figure it out? You’re “connected” to these people too! You dated Jessa, you dated Maia, You dated-” “Shut up, Lee!” he says with a snarl. “We were best friends, Landon. What happened to us?” I plead, regret dripping off my words like water off a flower petal. “We were never friends. I was using you, don’t you get it? This-this was my plan all this time- I don’t need friends, I don’t need you. What you are are nuisances, that’s it!” I catch a glint in his eye and realize he’s crying. The police will show up, mom might be worried. I just have to stall him, I think to myself. “You don’t get it, do you? You can’t just get rid of your problems, Landon, you have to solve them. I can get you help if you need-” “I.Don’t.Need.Help.” he scowls. “Don’t you? You kill people, Landon. That it not okay!” “I’M NOT A TODDLER, FELICIA! I DECIDE WHAT IS OKAY AND WHAT IS NOT! YOU ARE A PAWN! YOU MEAN NOTHING, THEREFORE YOU DO NOT DECIDE SHIT FOR ME!” He shouts, rage piercing through the walls as if he was throwing daggers. I hear the groan of a broken door opening, and the light footsteps of someone treading cautiously through the rubble. “Felicia? Felicia, are you here?” Wait wait wait… Emerson? His face pops up from behind a shattered booth. His face flickers to terror, and he freezes. I hear a deafening bang, and the smell of seared metal, then a sob from where Landon is standing. A gun nestled in his hand smokes, then Emerson’s body crumples to the floor. “Now look what you made me do.” he quakes.  
.


End file.
